


I'd Like to Say I've Won With Myself

by The_Marron



Series: And We Mend Our Broken Wings [2]
Category: Crimes of Grindelwald - Fandom, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A lot of talking, Dialogue Heavy, Grindelwald is not a good guy but he tries, Introspection, M/M, POV Alternating, also a lot of ideology?, old people flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 04:01:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16846720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Marron/pseuds/The_Marron
Summary: Back by popular demand, this is the second part of the alternative story of Gellert Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore. This time we have got lots of talking, a wedding and Albus Dumbledore's internal gay panic.





	I'd Like to Say I've Won With Myself

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Riverside's "River Down Below"
> 
> It exists only because you, readers are wonderful creatures! Thank you!

It has been a week.  A week since his cover was blown, since he announced to the world that he was still here. A week since Albus Dumbledore didn’t die.

No one had bothered him for the whole week, the Order of the Phoenix probably still debating whether to put him back behind bars or to leave him as Dumbledore’s personal guard dog. It was merely a question of whether they feared him more than they cared for their leader.

He was still waiting.

He had conducted his classes without any hitch, playing his part in front of the students. Some of them knew he had been fighting with Death Eaters, so they looked at him with new respect. He didn’t necessarily care. Then again, he didn’t care about many things now.

Not one of his students knew that he wasn’t Apollion Kasprovitsch at all. Not one, aside from the three, apparently, because Harry Potter and his friends cornered him in front of his quarters long after the dinner.

The Invisibility Cloak… For a moment there, he felt a familiar shudder, a rush in his veins, being so close to one of the Hollows…  But everything has changed now. The priorities had changed. At least for him.

“I could still give you detention for being out of your beds.” He informed the trio when they put away the cloak. They didn’t know it’s true value, it seemed. It would be so easy to convince them to leave it in his possession… Albus had the wand, the stone, all he needed to do was to convince, to make him… But no. Not anymore. Gellert Grindelwald has not changed and yet he had changed completely.

“I’m sorry, professor… Grindelwald, but we are not sure if Hogwarts still recognizes your authority. You’ve been lying to it for almost a year.” Said Hermione Granger, her hard gaze betraying mistrust and some kind of fear… Ah, a fear of rebellion. She longed for it, but at the same time, she wanted to believe in adults around her.

“Miss Granger, I assure you that it does. In fact, it still lets me eat in my chambers, which is a clear sign of favourism on the school’s part.” He replied with amicable smile. “But you didn’t come here to ask me about my standing at Hogwarts, did you? You come to me as fighters, not students. So come inside.” He let them in, paying close attention to their emotions. The air was tense around them and both Potter and Granger seemed ready to duel him, if the need arose. Weasley looked quite calm, either panicking on the inside, or being at peace with the situation. Gellert allowed the charm to fade. If he was going to earn their trust, dropping the disguise was the first step.

“Tea?” He offered, as the teenagers stopped awkwardly in the middle of his room. It wasn’t very big, because he didn’t need it to be. After getting used to his small cell in Nurmengard, big open spaces made him uncomfortable. His bed was in a small adjacent room, so the main chamber served as a study. Most of the space was filled with books, both Muggle and magic ones. On his desk situated just under the only window, there were still his notes and materials left from his last experiment with curse-breaking. Still, the ring was the closest he got. And it was not enough.

The kids refused politely and kept looking around, probably hoping to see some clear indication of Dark Arts somewhere in the room. There were some, of course, because Gellert believed in change, but he still didn’t believe in limits of knowledge. If Dark Arts could save Albus Dumbledore, then why abhor them? Besides, he was from Durmstrang. They actually learned Dark Arts there.

“I am afraid I can offer you my only chair.” He motioned at the furniture mentioned and it jumped up and moved to stand in front of the fireplace, next to an armchair, the only piece of luxury Gellert couldn’t resist. “...and two chairs borrowed from the kitchen.” He allowed the correct formula to resurface in his mind and there they were, two chairs summoned from the castle’s kitchen.

“I hope you will allow me to sit in my armchair.” He added, not waiting for the reply.  This whole conversation was just pleasantry, so he didn’t pay much attention to their answers, as long as they didn’t sound too hostile. They didn’t. In fact, they seemed to be unsure.

“Professor… Err, Grindelwald, sir?” Started Potter, clearly trying to be polite. This was swell, Gellert so enjoyed good manners.

“I’m listening, Mr. Potter.”

“Could you… I don’t know how to phrase it, there are so many questions we have and…” The young man was visibly frustrated and Gellert found out that he was already tired of this conversation. So he decided to help the kid out.

“…And the Order doesn’t want to give you answers?”

“Precisely.” Replied Granger. “ And we came to you, professor, because, as strange as it seems, you have been straight-forward with us throughout the whole year and we… We hope that you will remain so.” The fierce determination on Granger’s face brought a smile on his lips. Was he once like her, his soul burning with the need to know and with hope that every question could be answered? Or was he always twisted, not searching for answers but fighting for them and ultimately creating his own? Frankly, he couldn’t remember.

“I cannot promise I will answer every question. I may not know the answer or it may be someone else’s tale to tell, but I will reply truthfully to every question you might have.” He gave his voice a particular gentle note that worked so well with youngsters. He allowed his tone to imply that he was interested, that he cared. That he wanted to help them.  That he understood. It worked with Credence throughout all these years…

“Oh, so I have got one. Why did you kill Muggles.” Ronald Wealey. The youngest of six brothers. Always in their shadow, always striving for attention. If Gellert was still as he used to be, Weasley would be the person he would talk to. So much anger and need inside, so much to exploit. But that was a thought for another life. A different life that ended with him dying alone in a castle that was once his home. Not anymore.

“A bold question, Mr. Weasley.” He replied, unable to stop himself from feeling gleeful triumph when Ron’s face light up with praise. “And not easily answered, but I will try.” Here, he made a long pause, looking at all of his listeners attentively. This was a performance. A speech that was meant to convince the three golden kids of the Order that Gellert Grindelwald had changed, that he was there to help.  That he was good.

“Because I feared them.”

“That’s not what is written in the _History..”_

“Of course not, Miss Granger. History was written by the winners, as it always is. The Ministry wanted me to be a power-hungry madman who hated the Muggles and so in the public eye I became one, allowing them to hunt down my allies with extreme prejudice.”

A fire of anger sparked in Potter’s eyes and for a moment he truly looked like a child of prophecy, ready to vanquish all evils. But Gellert knew something about prophecies now, and he decided not to trust them too much.

“So you want to tell us that you had a great cause and that the Muggles were evil?” He practically shouted, and Gellert had to reign in his temper. It wouldn’t do him any good to shout at a child, especially one so important.

“Oh, no, Mr. Potter.” He replied when the initial fury had passed.” I am well aware of the errors and sins I had committed. Yet the question you asked me was “why” and not “do you think it was right”. Isn’t that so?”

“I’m sorry… Sir.” Respect. They can fear him and judge him, but they still respected him enough to let him continue. That was a good sign.

“No harm done. You are hot-headed and righteous, sure of the path you follow and you cannot understand how someone’s understanding of good can be different from yours. It’s understandable. I used to be like you, after all.” Here, he allowed a small, pained smile on his face.  He wasn’t even sure if it was fake or not.

“I am a Seer. Always had been. And usually I saw small things. A question on the exam. What I will get as a punishment for a mischief I hadn’t even committed yet, such things. And after I started studying at Durmstrang, the visions got more frequent and clearer. I could see a war. War like never before, with so much destruction and pain that  it almost drove me mad to look at it. I started to change. In my arrogance I thought that the visions happened to me for a reason. That I was the one to put a stop to it. “

It wasn’t a lie. He could still remember his thirteen old self crying in the Dumrstrang dungeons, hoping that no one would know, that no one would ask. How would he explain to anyone how scared he had been of stupid, non-magical Muggles? But there were other things  he had seen, that he didn’t tell his students about.  The visions about himself being hailed as the most powerful wizard of all times, the visions of the golden age of his tyrannical rule, the visions about uniting the whole wizarding world under his rule… They didn’t need to know about these.

“The Muggles of my times were cruel. The Magical laws punished wizards, not Muggles for any misconduct and living together with them seemed impossible. Eternally together, but always separated from each other, for the greater good.”

“So… You thought you were saving your people while you were killing mine?” Asked Miss Granger, a challenge clear in her voice.

“It is a great oversimplification, but yes. At the time I believed myself to be hero, a revolutionary that could finally bring peace to the world. Under Muggle rule the world was a cold, terrible place filled with war and poverty.  I was sure I could change all of that. So yes, I killed people believing it was a right thing to do.”

The kids fell silent, processing what he had told them. They probably expected him to defend his beliefs, or to try to make them forgive him. As if they could. As if their forgiveness meant anything.

“Sir?”

“Yes, Mr. Weasley?”

“Did you come here to run away from prison? Or to get some kind of redemption?”

Gellert shifted his gaze from Granger to Weasley.

“You are very observant, my dear boy, but neither. I saw my future in that prison. It wasn’t so bad. I died from the hand of Voldemort, trying to stop him. A hero’s death. No one would hear about it, but it was one. And I don’t believe in redemption for what I have done.”

That shocked the three of them. It was almost comical, and somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear the echo of young Albus Dumbledore calling him a dramatic diva. _You love to make a scene, you relish in your audience’s shocked gasps. Maybe you will find your place in the opera because I am getting used to your dramatics,_ he had said, fondly.

“Then why…?”

“My regret is not going to help anyone. It will not bring people back to life, it will not bring consolation to families torn apart. I can’t achieve that just feeling bad about my past, no one can. But I can make sure that I will be on the right side next time someone believes they are the hero of the story.”

He was shocked with how truthful it sounded. Again, it wasn’t necessarily a lie. But his main reason for being here wasn’t some great cause. He wasn’t great at choosing great causes, so this time he decided for one, small cause. Almost personal.

“Professor?”

“Go ahead and ask your, Miss Granger. I am still willing to answer all of your questions. I think the hardest one is already there in the open, so don’t be shy.”

“You said that you came back to save professor Dumbledore.”

“Indeed. That is my primary objective.”

Hermione Granger shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Oh. So personal questions made her lose her composure. Interesting.

“Could you tell us why? He was the one who defeated you, wasn’t he?”

Oh yes.

And no.

“He was. He was also the one who insisted on me being imprisoned in Nurmengard instead of executed. “

“So it’s gratitude?” Pressed Potter, desperately trying to understand why suddenly his whole world wasn’t clearly divided into white and black, good and bad. Gellert could imagine the thoughts running feverishly inside this young mind. He wanted to like and trust his teacher but at the same time he was afraid of who his teacher actually was. If it was morally correct to trust him. Poor kid.

“In a way. Let me put it that way – in my vision of the future in which I die opposing Voldemort there was one thing that worried me. And that was the fact that in this future Albus Dumbledore was dead. And I decided that this was not a future I could live with.”

The first pure truth of the evening.

“Why?”

“Oh, Mister Weasley… That is somebody else’s tale, I’m afraid.”

*

Albus has avoided him throughout the whole week and Gellert didn’t anticipate anything less. He made himself scarce whenever he could and tried not to linger in the Great Hall without a good reason. Albus would come to him, but he would have to do it on his own volition.

Until then, Gellert would play his role of the enthusiastic teacher as well as possible.

He was aware of the close scrutiny of Minerva McGonagall subjected him to, he was also aware that Severus Snape was currently considered a traitor by both sides. Life got complicated, but there was no other way it could have gone.

“They act as if I had personally brought the Dark Lord into the castle.” Hissed Snape, walking around Gellert’s room in frustration. Severus was a hard man to like and Gellert didn’t even bother, but he offered solace of companionship to the man nonetheless.

“Technically, you did bring a Dark Lord into the castle.” He pointed out and if glares could kill, he would be dead already.

“Not the current one! And really, most of them wasn’t even alive when you were the terror of the world. “

“That’s why they are afraid. They have learnt about me and thought that I was some evil from the past. Now I come back and they don’t know what to think and do anymore.”

Severus stopped his pacing at that and turned towards Gellert, who was as always sitting comfortably in his armchair.

“Why are you so calm?”

“Why should I not be?”

“They can send you back to Nurmengard or hand you to the Ministry.” Oh, poor Severus. Serving two masters had taken its toll on him and now he was searching for some assurance that there was a third power that could save him.

“ _They_ can’t. Dumbledore can. But he doesn’t want to. So I’m not going anywhere.”

“How do you know he doesn’t want to?” How to answer…

The fire cracked merrily in the fireplace and Gellert searched for appropriate words to convey the simple truth he already knew. Albus hated himself for it, but he felt stronger with Gellert here. He felt threatened and didn’t want to be too hopeful, but at the same time he feared not taking this chance to shift the odds more in the Order’s favour. Whether ultimately Dumbledore kept him around for tactical or personal reasons, Gellert knew he was not going anywhere any time soon.

“To put it frankly, I am too powerful pawn to remove me from the board.”

“You are also too risky to keep around. What if you turn your power against him? He wouldn’t be able to stop you and the Dark Lord together.” Severus pointed out, finally sitting on the chair.

“Then it is a good thing that I swore never to turn against him and his school, isn’t it?” He let Severus believe it was his own idea. It was easier this way. He was the one who wrote to Severus from Nurmengard, telling him about his vision of Dumbledore dying and how he could change it. The potions master didn’t believe him in the beginning, but he still came to see him. That was the ultimate tragedy of Albus Dumbledore, that his good intentions made people snap and come to Grindelwald instead. Not that he would ever tell him that.

“You could bypass the Vow if you tried hard enough.” Snape argued. Of course he could.

“If I wanted to, then certainly. But I do not wish to cause any harm. You of all people Severus should know how determined people get when they try to right the wrongs they have caused.” It was a low blow and accordingly, Severus’ face contorted in painful fury.

“Do you really want to pursue this train of thought, _Kasprovitsch_?” He hissed, but Gellert wasn’t impressed.

“Not particularly. I have better things to do with my time than self-loathing Olympics. I am just saying that you of all people should understand my drive to do something good with the time I have left.”

Severus fell quiet and moved his gaze to the fire.

For a while, they enjoyed contemplative silence.

“Talk do Dumbledore.” Severus finally said.

“I suppose I will have to at some point.” Gellert replied, slowly.

“Talk to him now.  If he accepts you, the Order would have to follow.” It all sounded great, but it was not concern for Gellert’s well-being that made Snape say that. It was fear. Now that Grindelwald’s identity was out there in the open, he didn’t want to be held responsible if he turned out to be a traitor. It was easier to put that kind of burden on Dumbledore, the man powerful enough to bear it.

A spark of anger flickered deep inside Gellert. Albus Dumbledore was a man. Just a man not a god and he couldn’t handle everything. He tried to and he probably enjoyed the level of trust he seemed to inspire in his followers, and Gellert could relate, but at the end of the day everyone wanted someone to be responsible. And it always came down to one person.

“I will talk to him when he wishes me to.”

“Oh yes, now you respect his authority.” Snape murmured viciously, but Gellert ignored him.

He had learnt long time ago that the way to Albus’ graces was to respect his time and needs. Not many could do that, because not many knew what Albus Dumbledore needed.

Gellert Grindelwald did.

*

It was the last week of school when Dumbledore finally summoned him to his office.

“You called, Headmaster.” He even added a little bow to the greeting.  Before Albus replied, Fawkes shrieked happily and came to say hello to his old care-taker. Marvelous things, phoenixes. They  never forgot  anything and anyone. Gellert supposed Fawkes has hated him for a long while for fighting with his current and true owner, but apparently old sentiments started to win inside the creature. 

“Your face is wrong.”

“I might take offense at that.” Gellert replied, but he took off the charm nonetheless. “I thought you didn’t want to see me ever again, so I decided to respect your wish.”

Albus Dumbledore shot him a tired glare.

“You are well aware that it is not your face that troubles me.”

“I do hope so.”

Another glare, but this time, Albus was unable to hide the flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“I must discuss with you your standing at school and in the Order. And it pains me to say it, but I cannot do that without speaking to you first.”

“What do you wish to know?” He tried to make it sound as nonchalant as possible, pretending that he was unaffected by being here, but his gaze still travelled to Dumbledore’s cursed hand. The golden ring he had created was still shining on the finger Gellert had put it on and the hand itself looked a bit better than it used to. Only killing Voldemort would fully heal Albus Dumbledore, Gellert knew.

“I don’t trust you.” Well. No one said waltzing right back into Albus’ life was going to be easy. But Grindelwald was too old to care about trust.

“You don’t have to trust me and my motivations. Just accept that I have my own agenda that is similar to yours and use me as you need.  Do you need a fighter? An advisor? A confidante? I can be all of them. I am here to ensure you win.”

Albus looked at him in silence, not bothering to hide the pain in his eyes. There was a lot of pain there, but both of them knew it was not the time, nor the place to dwell on it. Maybe later. Maybe when they were both free of obligation to the world, maybe then they could finally talk, to get rid of the decades of hurt and anger. But not now.

“And I still wonder why is that.”

Gellert Grindelwald had never lied to Albus Dumbledore. He wasn’t going to start now.

“I’ve seen your death, Albus. I’ve seen you fall from a tower, with a dark mark above your head.”

“Were you disappointed you weren’t the one to do it?”

Gellert could feel his anger raising. Leave it to Albus to always find some reason to be suffering and conflicted. It made him mad.

“That would make it so easy for you, wouldn’t it? If I said “yes” you would finally get your proof that everything that has ever happened between us was fake, that every night I spent with you was just manipulation and that you were but a gullible victim.” He hissed.

“You can’t live with the knowledge that I felt for you as strongly as you did for me, so you too, try to vilify me just to save your own self-respect. Once you considered love to be but an illusion, a shackle that kept you in place, now suddenly you view it as the greatest force in the universe, the greatest good there is. But I do not fit the picture. _We_ don’t fit the picture so of course, it couldn’t have been anything real between us. I’m sorry to disappoint you, professor Dumbledore, but I refuse to let you go unscathed by our past.” Gellert added, only now noticing that he got up in his anger. Fawkes shrilled sadly and flew away to sit on Dumbledore’s desk, so he could keep an eye on both of them. This was supposed to be a civil conversation, damn it.

“Unscathed?” Dumbledore asked quietly. “I’ve been anything but. Despite everything you have done, your image plagued me every day. Every time I read your surname in the paper, every time I refused to face you and after the duel, every time I heard your name mentioned, all I could think was how I missed you. But I won’t let it affect me. “

“You never did.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Old anger, hurt from over ninety years suddenly came back to Gellert.

“ _You_ turned on _me_. I was arguing with Aberforth  to let you go with me, to let you travel, to let us find the cure for Ariana. And suddenly you weren’t beside me, you were in front of me, fighting with _me_.  You called me a monster and ordered me to get away from your brother. First you asked me to convince him, to make him free you of obligation and then suddenly you decide you don’t want to have anything to do with me. Aria…” But here, Gellert stopped. He had never, ever wanted to discuss Ariana. Not with Albus. Not with anyone else. He didn’t want to answer the one question everyone was dying to ask. He couldn’t.

He saw Albus’ tears and he momentarily regretted losing his temper. He was but an old man now, not fully in charge of himself as he used to be, but it was still something that shouldn’t have happened.

He saw that Albus was trying to formulate some reply and Gellert felt done with this conversation.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. It hurts, but ultimately doesn’t matter. I asked Snape to set me free so I could save your life. That’s it. That’s my only reason for being here, interpret it how you like. And make up your mind quickly, because unless you personally deliver me back to Nurmengard, I am coming back to my teaching post come September. “

With the last head-scratch for Fawkes, Gellert left the room, leaving Albus Dumbledore alone and possibly a bit heart-broken.  

He deserved that, that sanctimonious prat.

Saint Albus, preacher of love. Too bad he truly believed that only good people could ever experience it. How naïve. Especially since he had allowed Severus Snape into the Order. A man who abused children on a daily basis, a man who voluntarily joined Voldemort, this man was given his right to love, to have his love recognized by Albus. Grindelwald apparently, was unworthy.

Maybe Albus saw himself in Snape, to an extent. Heart-broken, filled with regret and determined to make things right, even if it meant hurting poor students. Gellert wasn’t blind, he could see what stellar work Albus had done with young Potter. Whenever he looked him, he was reminded of Credence. A boy who needed to be told he was special, that he could matter. That he was the only one who could stand up to the evil.  And that blind trust, adoration in his eyes whenever his mentor appeared…

Gellert reached him chambers, deep in thought.

He went straight to the small adjacent bathroom and washed his face, trying to somehow cool his head. When he looked up, he was met with his own face, the face of an ex-prisoner. He forgot to put back his Transfiguration charm, it seemed.  The eyes looking at him were two different colours and his long hair, though gray, still had bits of blond in them. His face was sunken and his frame was thinner compared to the body he created for Kasprovitsch persona. He reminded himself of the times when he had just escaped from the MACUSA, after months of torture and charming his warden’s. Now he looked similar, but worse, much older.

He wasn’t as powerful as he used to be.

It would still feel better to die here than in his cell, he decided. To die saving Albus Dumbledore, than to learn of his death from the _Daily Prophet_.

How unfortunate  to be tied to a person that truly wanted to die.

Gellert wasn’t going to let him. If Albus thought Gellert was his crime, then he was willing to show him that he was his punishment as well.  There was no easy escape now, Dumbledore would have to see everything he set up for Harry come true. And maybe finally, when all of this was over, he could start to heal.

There was a knock on his door.

“Enter”

“Professor… Kasprovitsch.” Started Minerva McGonagall in her most business-like tone.”I am to take you to the meeting of the Order.”

Oh. Not going back to Nurmengard, then.

Gellert couldn’t stop a small smile making its way on his lips.

*

Summer holidays were usually the best time for Hogwarts' staff – they could finally visit their families, friends and not to look at any children for two months.

Albus Dumbledore usually loved summer holidays, but this year he wasn’t entirely sure what was he supposed to be doing. He planned to be dead at this point. He had no plans, no missions. He wanted to look for the horcruxes instead of Harry, but it would destroy all of his plans. Harry had to find them himself, he had to learn their price and meaning himself. And if Albus was to be honest, he was too weak to be  of any use. He was alive, true, but the curse on his hand wasn’t going anywhere and he didn’t have as much power as he used to. Even with the Elder wand, the spells he cast in the cave were exhausting. What use would he be to Harry and his friends?

And then there was the problem of Grindelwald. The Order finally decided that he was too big of an asset to let go, especially since if rejected, he could still go to support Voldemort, and that was something no one wanted to risk.

Still, somebody had to keep an eye on him during the summer and everyone’s eyes turned to Albus. Of course. He was their leader, the strongest wizard, the one even Voldemort feared. No one considered that considering the power-show Gellert did at Hogwarts' it was clear that he was in a much better state than Albus. That if he wanted to, he could probably defeat him and leave him dead for Voldemort to find. They trusted in the Unbreakable Vow, but they didn’t know Gellert. At this point, Albus wondered if he ever knew Gellert at all, because his behavior didn’t make much sense.

It was too good to be true, to have him back and on the same side.

It seemed wrong

It seemed exactly right.

And Albus didn’t know how to work around it.

Still, Gellert remained in the castle, so whether Albus wanted or not, he was forced to spend every meal with him. Thankfully, Gellert seemed to get on well with Minerva, once he had convinced her that Albus’ safety was his priority. How he managed to do that, Albus had no idea, but right now they were sitting a few chairs from him and although he couldn’t hear what exactly were they discussing, it was engaging enough to draw Filius in, and that was a rare sight to behold.

He couldn’t help but be interested.

The more he listened in the more sure he was. They were discussing Quidditch. It was such a mundane topic to discuss, and yet Gellert looked as if he was truly enjoying the conversation, arguing that while Ravenclaws followed the rules and had a better strategy, Gryffindors were more united as a team.

For the life of him Albus Dumbledore had never dreamt that he would see the day his mortal enemy would sit at the same table as him and talk about Quidditch with other teachers, as if he was a normal human being.

It was too unreal.

Even worse was how quickly Dumbledore got used to looking at Grindelwald’s face without a shudder. Since the end of the semester, Gellert decided to forgo his charm and just roamed about the castle wearing his normal face. And no one seemed to care. No one seemed to be drawn to the blue eye, looking for cruelty hiding in it. No one avoided the brown one, afraid of warmth it might see in it. When the initial shock disappeared, the Order of the Phoenix seemed quite at ease with Gellert. Then again, they accepted Mundungus Fletcher.

He hasn’t spoken privately to Gellert since their last meeting.

Mostly because Albus wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. If he wanted to say anything at all.

But the wedding of Bill and Fleur was approaching and Dumbledore was still invited.

Could he even attend a wedding?

A celebration of love, of happiness, of loyalty. Of faithfulness and facing the world together, hand-in-hand. A celebration of trust.

But dark times were coming and Weasleys deserved a moment of happiness. Besides, Albus still had his gifts to bestow on Harry and his friends, so… He should come.

A burst of joyful laughter interrupted his thoughts – at some point professor Sprout had joined in the conversation and was now sharing the mishaps of Hufflepuff team members.

And Albus Dumbledore felt a bit of dread.

If he was coming, then Gellert was definitely coming with him.

*

“I think they won’t let you in.” Persisted Gellert and Albus was quite done.

“No one ever gave me that much trouble about the way I dress. Even if Minerva promised to set my robe on fire on one occasion.”

“Because they all think you are a god, you don’t tell a god he is colour blind.” Gellert argued and shot Albus another judgmental look.

“I don’t remember asking your opinion.”

“You are wearing a pink robe in candy pattern to a wedding. What you ask for is a sentence, not opinion.” With that Gellert sped up, leaving Albus behind.  Grindelwald was dressed in a black suit and some fancy Muggle coat which reminded Albus of the way he dressed back in the day. He looked good, his long hair tied up and his face clear. The only change he introduced to his appearance was the eye. The blue one changed into brown and suddenly he looked like a normal old wizard instead of the Dark Lord of the past.

Albus decided he was too old to get insulted and decided to move faster.

He pretended he didn’t notice genuine smile on his own face.

The wedding was truly and amazing affair. Bill and Fleur exchanged their vows and the guests seemed to be sincerely happy for them. Some of the people present seemed surprised to see Albus, especially Elphias Doge. Poor Doge. Had Albus been a better person, Elphias would have been his best friend. Loyal, helpful and kind, if a bit naïve. But ultimately good and brave. Worthy.

As he exchanged pleasantries with Elphias, Albus could help the way his eyes travelled around the wedding tent, searching for Gellert. Always, always searching for him.  And there he was, dancing with Fleur’s mother and making her laugh every few twirls. He looked well. Charming and gallant, with power hiding behind his eyes.

Albus was sure he was not the only one to stare.

“I’ve always wondered… Why haven’t you married? I’ve always dreamt of attending your wedding, it would be the most intellectual affair, I am sure.” This question brought him back from his reverie.

For a moment he considered avoiding the question or giving him the standard answer of “I haven’t found anyone” but it didn’t seem right. He did. He found one person, but this was the worst choice he had ever made.

Then, he looked at the golden ring on his cursed hand.

A memory of a powerful pact, more sturdy than a marriage came back to him.

“It was. And yet it wasn’t.” He replied and while Elphias tried to make any sense of his  words, he bid him farewell and left.

He managed to find Hermione, Ron and even Harry in disguise. They told him about Severus’ presence at Harry’s transportation and of Alastor’s death. Dumbledore knew already, but he listened to them nonetheless. Severus had returned to Voldemort on Albus’ orders. He had to prove his loyalty after the failure at Hogwarts, but bringing lots of true information about Order’s plans and especially about Grindelwald’s presence should make him safe for the time being.

Severus was the most important piece Albus had at the moment.

And if he had to sell Gellert to protect Snape, he would.

The man in question approached him after an hour, joining him at the table.

“No longer feel like dancing?”

“Dancing is for young people and old fools, as long as they stick to their respective company.” Gellert replied, but he had a strange look in his eyes.

“Find someone of your age to dance with you.”

“One step ahead of you.” Gellert replied and offered Albus a hand.

He shouldn’t. He didn’t want to. He couldn’t. There were people, there was their history, the plan, the fact that Albus had sold Gellert to Voldemort, so much guilt…

He took the hand anyways.

“I know why you said yes.” Whispered Gellert as they spun around the dance floor. No one was paying them any attention – the Lovegood family in their bright yellow gowns were a pleasant distraction and young Krum was shouting somewhere, which meant that most of the people had other things on their mind than two old wizards dancing slowly in circles.

“Oh?”

“You were fully aware than no one else would ask you.” Yes. “And you love to dance, always had.” Yes again.

“I think I should be offended. Did I age so bad that people run away from me?” His attempt at a joke fell flat and something like sympathy entered Gellert’s eyes.

“No, it’s your gown. Not anyone is brave enough to associate with someone wearing this shade of pink.” The man replied, but Albus knew the real answer. Gods didn’t dance. Of course, he danced at the Yule ball and during the Ministry parties, but it was always he, who asked and not many found any real joy in dancing with someone of his reputation. It gets lonely at the top, they said. It was.

Since he lost Grindelwald to madness, to war, to Nurmengard, he had no equal. He was one of his kind, but here, right now…

That’s why he had missed him so.

Loved him so.

He wanted…

And then something silver appeared in the middle of the dancing floor and a lynx with Shacklebot’s voice told them the worst: The Ministry has fallen. They’re coming.”

The moment the lynx disappeared, people started to run away in panic. Some disapperated, some run to the hills and for a good cause. The Death Eaters were here.

“Everyone who can’t disapperate, inside the circle!” Shouted Gellert, and a circle of blue flames appeared in the middle of the dancing floor. Some hesitated, but the moment they saw that flames didn’t hurt them, they started to run toward them.

“Can you cast Protego around us? I can transport them, but it requires focus.” Gellert told him in a confident tone, as if they were used to work together.

“I can.”

And while Albus was protecting the guests on their way to the circle, Gellert maintained the flames and teleported people with a simple touch. Most of the guests they saved was from Fleur’s family. It was no wonder. As foreigners they couldn’t exactly picture a safe place in Britain to which they could run.

Soon, the circle was empty, the tent destroyed by Death Eaters fighting with the members of the Order.

“I think it’s time for you as well.” And without a warning, Gellert touched Albus’ arm and a familiar feeling of being thrown through space and time enveloped Albus.

He appeared at Grimmauld Place and was quickly forced to calm down the people gathered there. He still didn’t know who told Gellert about the Order’s quarters, but he was quite happy they did. They couldn’t use Floo powder to escape, but Albus was well-acquainted with London’s streets and means of transport, so he granted everyone directions on how to escape the quickest way.

The Death Eaters wouldn’t search for anyone in the Muggle London, it was too soon for that.

For the first time in his life, all Albus could do, was to wait. He hoped that everyone in the Order was able to escape, that no one suffered.

Gellert still hasn’t appeared.

Albus sat down and made himself some tea. Kreacher ignored him as usual.  The Order didn’t know that Snape came back to Voldemort on Albus’ orders, so they probably assumed he was a traitor and had told his master about the quarters at Grimmauld Place. No one would look for him here. Sending an owl was dangerous and his patronus was rather characteristic. All he could do was sit and wait.

One hour passed.

No one appeared.

Gellert was dead. Gellert was captured. Gellert betrayed him. Gellert died trying to protect everyone. Gellert ran away. Albus couldn’t decide which option was the worst.

Since he had appeared, everything was out of control. Albus had no plan now.

What should he do?

He was left alone with his thoughts for almost two hours.

Then finally, finally, he heard the sound of someone apparating in the kitchen.

“What happened?”

Albus assumed many things, looking at Gellert, His arm was torn by claws, it seemed, and was bleeding profusely, he also looked as if he couldn’t move it. There was also a giant bruise on his cheek.

But he was alive.

“Werewolves happened.  They have some pretty talented wizards on their side. Somebody finally thought of casting the apparation blocking charms, so we had to break away manually, so to say.” With no questions asked, Gellert took Albus’ mug from his hands and drank what was left of his third tea.“Arthur checked with everyone, they are safe, even the kids. Some are hurt and most of them are terrified, but they are alright. “ Gellert finally sat down and the exhaustion could be seen on his face.  He immediately started to clean and wrap up his wounds. Albus wanted to help, but he wasn’t sure if this kind of intimacy and familiarity was what either of them truly needed right now.

“We have to move from here. Quickly.”Gellert finally managed, when his work was done.

“Severus would not tell them about this place…”

“He will have to. The ministry is no more and Snape is the new Headmaster at Hogwart’s. You are the Undesirable number 2, right after Harry Potter. The majority of the wizard community is going to come after you now.”

It was a shock. Of course, the Ministry had been fighting with him on more than one  occasion and they had fired him two years ago, but the whole society?

“I know you can hide yourself as well as anyone, but I’ve been on the run for a lot of time.” Gellert continued. “So my best guess at what to do know is that we keep together. I know this is hardly what you would call pleasant, but let’s face it: you are not a god. You are a tired man with a cursed arm and you can’t do it alone.”

Albus wanted to argue, but there was something burning inside Gellert’s eyes, and he stopped himself.

“I am your best chance at survival now, and I will not let you die. “

“Where shall we go?”

Gellert halted his movement and shot Albus a surprised look.

And Albus, fully knowing what was going on in Gellert’s head now, knowing what kind of memories this conversation brought, looked him in the eye and repeated:

“Where shall we go?”  


**Author's Note:**

> There will be a third part of this, I swear. Also, Remus & Tonks are not togetehr, because there is no Dumbledore's funeral, so no one could force Remus "because Dumbledore wished it to be". Sorry, Teddy, you'll be born much later, so they can actually have some time to fall for one another. 
> 
> And I still couldn't use all of the crack ideas I had and got from you, damn it. I need to write some pure crack soon.
> 
> UPDATE: This story has fanart now!!! I am so excited, and happy and flattered and also in love. Big thanks to Glacier_Llane! Here, check it out and love it: [Here](https://darklordslove.tumblr.com/post/180923014021/inspiration-from-and-we-mend-our-broken-wings)


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